He stops and stares. It’s been quite a while really, and staring hasn’t been something he’d had the luxury to for the past couple of months. She stares back, too, when she thinks he isn’t looking. He watches her watch him at the oddest times, and always catches her and pretends he doesn’t, out of what he calls chivalry even if it seems inappropriate.

People notice, too. They joke about it and say they’ll end up together too at some point. Part of him knows it’s true. Part of him feels it in his bones that nothing could ever break him more than not have her, than not feel her lips against his and her body against his and he misses her so much he could burst. But the truth is this is only part of him. The other part of him believes they’ve got it all wrong, and she’ll find love in the arms of somebody else; someone simpler than him, he can only hope.

“Hello,” she says, and it sounds like an apology even if it should not.

“Hey,” he says, and it carries a death sentence even if he wishes it didn’t.

the waiting and staring game
scott x allison.